A thought or two over coffee...

It must have rained for the last 24 hours. Not always heavy, but a lot of rain. Better than snow in Houston! Haven't driven in snow in a few years, and it is a talent you need to have to survive in snowy areas.

All Americans, especially young students going abroad, need to know that they need to keep their noses clean when in a foreign country. It has been proved again and again, that the American justice system is far superior to anywhere else in the world. Even something as simple as a car accident in a foreign country can prove to be very difficult to settle.

Countries foreign to us simply think differently than we do and we have no right stepping into their front doors and to keep acting like Americans. The old saying "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" is one that should always be remembered.

I remember in 2000, I was an adult chaperon on a mission trip to Graz, Austria and Budapest, Hungary. The majority of our group were teenagers. These kids were very good kids, but they were American teenagers. I was the old grouch who frequently reminded them that while walking down the streets of Graz or Budapest, to quiet down, don't make so much noise as to have people notice you. I have always loved to 'blend in' when in a foreign country. I try to dress like they do, no bright colors, and certainly keep a quiet demeanor. I usually get away with it until I try to speak their language! Unless I am in a place where they speak German, my foreign language skills are weak. I try though, and try to blend in. After all, I am a guest in their country. I truly believe, American exchange students are never fully prepared to spend any time in a foreign country.

Here is something new. The Trout stopped at the vegetable market and picked up some Roma tomatoes. Complaining that they were quite green, he was told that the new rules to stop salmonella are that the tomatoes need to be cleaned with scalding water before being sold. Because the hot water takes the skin right off the tomatoes, they need to be less ripe to accomplish this, so tomatoes will be sold greener. Makes you want to grow your own, doesn't it?

Need to refill the coffee cup...til next time.

My coffee set

About 10 years ago, my son-in-law, Mike, went to Bosnia with his church to do missionary work. He actually had two different trips over there, one time building a playground for the children and another time helping to rebuild the bomb damaged homes. He lived in the homes with families who had very little, but wanted to know more about the Lord.

He brought me back a coffee set used in Bosnia. It definitely has a Turkish look to it. At one time, every 15 seconds for 2-3 years, Sarajevo was being hit with shells and shrapnel. The people living there took the large shell casings and hammered them flat, polished them and fashioned them into coffee sets, ornaments and ashtrays.

Mike related that the women spent a good part of the day hand grinding coffee beans. They then would put 6 to 8 scoops of the ground coffee into a pot until it boiled over an open flame. The foam was skimmed from the top and then poured into the small carafe you see on the right in the picture.

I have kept the coffee set Mike brought me in my china cabinet, but have never used it. I think the next time Mike comes to visit, I will plan on having coffee with him, as they do in Bosnia. Thanks again, Mike.

Oh, the wonderful smells

Yesterday, as the aroma of braised short ribs in red wine wafted through the house, my mind wandered to days past. One of my favorite smells to remember goes back to the year we lived in Germany. We window shopped a lot in those days, but my favorite day out was usually late morning or early afternoon when I liked walking through neighborhoods and smell the kitchen smells escaping into the streets. Always onions and bacon together produced the most mouth-watering effect. I often wished I knew these wonderful cooks and could go in to sample what was on the stove. Browned meats, pork and sauerkraut, cabbage, real European fare.

The week I spent in rural Budapest, Hungary, was similar. I so enjoyed walking the streets of this little village and there, the sweet and savory flavor of paprika also mixed with the wonderful smells coming out of these Hungarian kitchens. Quite often I would see the grandmas of these homes, dressed in black and head scarfs, gray hair peeking out on the top and sides, and smiling and waving as they sat on their steps or were hoeing in their gardens. How I wished I could speak to them and ask what was cooking in the kitchen.

I was on a Mission trip that time with teenagers from our church, so we ate in the castle where we were living for the week and the food was very basic, not very flavorful, but the bread....it was delivered each morning and the loaves were at least 18 inches in diameter and must have weighed close to 5 pounds. Bread and homemade jam...it was so good.

Where is the flusher?

I was thinking last evening about the challenges people face when they are in a country where they do not speak the language. That in itself is a real handicap, but in addition, just learning how things work or operate can be a bigger hindrance.

I've gotten myself into some predicaments while traveling in Europe. Problem spots are figuring out parking meters and parking garage protocols, washing machines and toilets. Today I will speak about the toilets.

I would venture to say, most American toilets operate the same. In Italy or France, you could be faced with a real problem. Finding the flusher is the challenge. I have been known to spend a lot of time in public restrooms, simply trying to figure out how to flush. Sometimes there is a foot pedal on the floor, a tiny, almost hidden button on the wall, a cord pulled from near the ceiling, and my favorite, the double flusher where you choose a regular or eco-friendly flush.

The most disturbing toilet or W.C. as it is known in most of Europe (meaning water closet) is what is called a Turkish toilet. It is simply a hole in the floor with a grooved ceramic foot plate on either side. It is slanted with the higher edge against the wall.

The first time I saw this, I decided I could wait until later. I told my husband I had no clue how to straddle something like that and would have to read up on it first. In all honesty, I still avoid that type of apparatus even though I have found out that you back up on the foot plates. Have you ever!

I truly believe these challenging situations are what draws me back to the old country every time. To get out of down-filled beds with square pillows and emerge into the daily life of a European, make my French press coffee or Italian espresso and eat breakfast as the Europeans do. To walk the old cobblestone streets in awe of the magnificant architecture and the "oldness" of everything. That makes me wonder if I was born on the right side of the ocean because this is what I truly love and miss when I am back home.

I'll tell you about my experiences with the washing machine later....